


Short Fights on Cold Nights

by United_Nation_of_Roses



Category: Internet Personalities, cryaotic
Genre: Late Night Crew, M/M, Short One Shot, Snund if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/United_Nation_of_Roses/pseuds/United_Nation_of_Roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an argument earlier, Scott and Snake settle down into one of their usual routines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Short Fights on Cold Nights

They sat in silence. Cold hands clamped around separate cans robotically as the wind nipped against bare skin. The shorter of the two drew in a sharp breath, ice tickling the back of his throat. The air in front of them clouded over with his sullen exhale, soft white steam quickly engulfed by the thick sheet of night.

Soon, the other stirred beside him, the light clank of metal being set down on wood sounding before he noticed the other, pursing his lips against the lit cigarette between his fingers.   
Slowly the atmosphere sank back into empty stillness, but neither of them minded that. 

After their usual scuffle, it was common and become somewhat of a routine for them. The front porch became their recovery zone, where unspoken words, understandings, and disagreements, were battled out subconsciously.   
They lacked the energy to continue the earlier fight, which had been verbally and physically draining for the two of them.

Of course, the seeds of anger still remained, stirred by the silence and lack of forgiveness. Scott wasn’t to blame, he never was in his own mind, but this time the taller neighbour had to agree.  
Forcing an apology out of Snake could be easily compared to making a death wish. But Scott (Mother fucking) Jund wasn’t giving up. He refused to take the blame for this, and Snake knew it.

Finally, when the brunette stubbed out the butt of his cigarette, his eyes slanted to the man next to him, his glare trained to a spot in the grass.  
Snake nudged the olive green garment further up his forehead; his brow creasing disdainfully as a grimace worked it’s way onto his face.  
He knew he’d lost.

“Jund look, I’m sorry about-”

“Yeah I know, asshole.”

Scott’s eyes flicked from the ground, to his side. The anger previously harboured dissipating into slight irritation. They both seemed to visibly relax, the shorter returning his gaze out into the darkness. Staring at nothing in particular.  
Snake found his lips quirking slightly, bringing the freezing can to his mouth.

“You still owe me a new mop.”

“Shut up.”


End file.
